FINE ART SHIPPING is currently accepting applications for the position of Customer Service Representative. In addition to the normal palette of office and computer skills, the job requires the following more specialized abilities:

 ++ Estimate the packed dimensions of objects contained in email attachments that can’t be opened

++ Return urgent phone calls left by gallery assistants named Kristin who forget at the end of their message to leave their gallery name or phone number

++ Determine precise street addresses based on zip codes and the nearest Starbucks location

++ Overbook by mistake and then outperform on purpose, especially on Fridays

++ Accurately translate two dimensions into three

++ Determine the weights of large sculptures made in Brazil from exotic equatorial woods, including the pests contained therein

++ Increase the cubic volume capacity of our trucks at will, based on client demand

++ Create a spreadsheet for finding artist studios in unmarked buildings with no doorbells

++ Construct a “taxes and duties” computation game of chance

++ Explain our customers’ all risk fine arts insurance coverage in a tweet

++ Turn five-part carbonless paper bills of lading into chardonnay

If this sounds like your cup of tea please give me a call to schedule an appointment at my earliest convenience.

Betsy Dorfman

     Each year we send crew and managers out, sometimes at our own expense, sometimes charged to the client, to take a look at inventories to be moved and/or to assess various logistics issues at a given physical location. This “site visit” is required where very large collections are to be relocated or where the client, for whatever reason, is unable to provide an accurate or complete inventory. The site visit becomes necessary to produce the estimate, which then becomes the basis for accomplishing the required scope of work.

      There are two kinds of site visits: useful and useless. You should go on the useful ones, and avoid the useless ones. Trouble is, telling which is which in advance.

      Customer A is very insistent that someone come out and take a look at their “large inventory of major artworks” which they want to store or ship. Sounds juicy. Sure we will do a site visit, no charge, be right over.

      Customer B says we don’t need to come out in advance, they only have a couple of pieces, just send a truck and two guys on the day of the job, no problem, piece of cake, yawn.

      Which is the difficult job for which a site visit would have been hugely beneficial?

      Customer A turns out to have five or six perfectly ordinary oil on canvas paintings, not terribly large, a straightforward job to be deinstalled, wrapped, and removed by two art handlers in a relative trice.

      Customer B on the other hand has two very difficult sculptural works, delicate and top heavy, which really should have had frames built in advance of removal to provide proper support. Not to mention  some wacky “artist installed” logistics which have to be figured out and undone before the pieces can be removed from their respective perches. Oh, and the through the doorway clearances are very tight. Oh, and the house is on a hill with overhanding trees over the driveway so the sculptures have to be dollied down the driveway to a truck at the bottom.

      Where site visits aren’t done, peril often looms. Some examples from our experience:

      – the artist who has added to his creation in the studio without considering whether it will fit back out through the studio door. It won’t.

      — the “five or six” artworks which the caller described on the phone somehow morph into fifty or sixty upon our arrival.

      — the “perfectly friendly” dogs who nevertheless have to be shut away in advance to avoid our art handlers being bitten in the driveway (Two dog bites in 15 years…)

     – the gallerist who “forgets” to mention that the large sculpture or crate we are picking up for a third party is buried in the rear of the gallery’s storage area, where it has not been seen since 1957. The estimated one hour pickup/delivery turns into a multi-hour affair as our art handlers move everything else out of the way to access that piece.

      – the overhanging trees which make an accessible driveway into a “no truck” zone. We have paid reparations to more than one homeowner’s tree surgeon over the years. Often trees and landscaping have changed character since the owner moved in 15 years ago, so the fact that “the moving truck got in just fine” has past it’s fresh information expiry date. Better to go and measure.

     — and my personal favorite, the collector who had us pick up a painting from a gallery, only to find that the piece would not fit through any door in his residence. Whereupon he refused to pay anything, saying that as professionals we should be familiar with doorway sizes and we should have advised him not to buy the painting. This really happened.

      A successful site visit begins with the customer service person taking the phone call or answering the email asking the right questions. This means not accepting vagaries such as “large” or “heavy” or “small” or “easy access.” These are relative terms, and one person’s “pretty heavy but four guys could probably do it” is another person’s “get a crane.” You really need to know which job is which.

     For all the sleuthing in advance, there are always going to be useless site visits. Sometimes the visit was not strictly necessary from the scope of work point of view, but the manager bonds with the client and secures the job, turning useless into very useful indeed.

     When in doubt, as with most things in life, it is best to show up.

       Betsy Dorfman

When we advertise for art handlers there are inevitably calls and emails in response saying essentially: “I’m not exactly sure what an art handler is or does, but I know I would be super good at it!” Well, you might — most art handlers are trained on the job and people from all sorts of backgrounds have succeeded in the role. But it isn’t an easy job and it takes the right blend of skills and personality to make the cut.

In the next few posts we’ll take a look at art handlers and art handling; the more the public understands what we do and why and how, the better. And perhaps there are some future art handling superstars out there in cyberville waiting to be discovered!

So, for starters, what is an art handler?

An art handler typically works for an art services, transportation, or storage company and performs some or all of the following tasks:

• Drives a truck, either locally or long distance between cities
• Picks up and delivers a variety of artworks including paintings, sculptures, and mixed media works of all descriptions
• Inspects artworks to determine how, where, when, or if to touch them and how to pack for transport
• Understands how to properly wrap, load, span, tie in artworks within a truck to keep then safe and stable during transport
• Selects proper archival and other packing materials depending upon the medium, surfaces, condition and fragility of the works in question
• Packs and crates artworks of all descriptions
• Interacts positively with a typically educated, professional, and often opinionated customer base in the field
• Installs artworks professionally in settings ranging from corporate to residential, including selection of proper hardware and exercise of aesthetic judgment as needed
• Prepares condition reports and photographs artworks as needed
• Completes critical paperwork such as inventories and bills of lading with accuracy and attention to detail
• Has the “people” skills and situational awareness to work with a partner or larger crew in a seamless way, taking leadership and direction as needed to complete the task at hand
• Is familiar with basic art terminology and art history

Not all art handlers necessarily need to drive trucks, crate, or install artworks; in larger companies there are departments and an art handler may never be required to drive a large truck, make a crate or softpack paintings. But the wider the applicant’s skill set the more valuable he or she is potentially to any employer.

It should be noted that art handling in a for profit competitive business like art transportation is quite different from the job of a preparator or art handler in a museum or gallery setting. There is a tremendous emphasis on dealing with the public and many services of necessity are are performed with third parties looking on. Ever put a $5 million dollar painting into a crate with a room full of museum staffers looking on? Or install a painting on a 20 foot white wall in a living room overlooking the ocean with the owners of the artwork, gallery representative, art consultant, and artist all offering input and suggestions?

It takes a certain personality and sense of forward motion to get the job done both safely for the artworks and expeditiously enough to keep the company in business. Time counts, and the extra caution slow motion rules which are standard operating procedure in some institutional committee cultures simply don’t apply. Many otherwise talented art handlers can’t make the shift to the “for profit” culture or are fine working alone in a shop but not comfortable out in the field with onlookers checking their watches, asking questions, and sometimes second guessing methods and materials. Whatever their other qualifications, art handlers who are loners, can’t do paperwork, or who fail to develop a good “art side” manner with customers don’t last long.

Betsy Dorfman

Besides being the rumored title of a forthcoming Thomas Pynchon novel, inherent vice is a legal term of importance to shippers and insurers of fine art and antiques. The term refers to items which, by the very nature of their composition, are subject to degradation or deterioration over time and/or in handling. Most insurers and fine art policies specifically exclude coverage for loss due to  inherent vice, so it is important to understand what types of materials and fabrications can fall into this category. The disclaimer also applies to hidden defects not visible to the carrier but which are found to be the cause of damage or loss.  You don’t want to think you have coverage only to find that you have tumbled into the black hole of this clause.

Some examples of inherent vice we have run across include:

– sand paintings where the sand dislodges from the face or edges of the artworks

– artworks  with “glued on” elements that come loose during handling or transport

– artworks or antiques made of old wood which can crack or where existing cracks can extend or widen

– marble & limestone slabs or artworks which can shatter along internal fault lines

– wet paintings where the paint runs or pools

– weak soldering at joins in metal sculptures

– “hinged” works on paper which are not declared as such at the time of shipping, and so are subject to slippage within the frame

– top heavy fabrications where a heavy top crushes the level below due to insufficient support

– artworks incorporating liquid or other unstable elements which can expand or leak in shipping

– sharp folds in textiles or fabrics which suffer deterioration or breakdown at the folded edges

The exclusion also applies to damage arising from insufficient packing by the shipper where the customer has released the shipment to the carrier already packed. Here is some language from a case comment by a marine attorney:

The “inherent vice” exclusion is also used to describe a loss that, due to the manner in which the cargo is shipped, is regarded as inevitable. For example, fresh eggs shipped without any packing or protection are likely to sustain damage no matter how carefully they are handled. Chocolates shipped in an ordinary container in the summer are bound to melt. Damage that occurs in the course of ordinary handling and transportation of cargos, without the intervention of fortuity, is due to inherent vice and must be excluded from coverage. http://www.whitelawtwining.com/pdfs/555928_1.pdF

Your best bet is to give the carrier full information about the item to be shipped. If the carrier accepts the item, packs it, and selects the mode of transport then the exclusion may not apply. For example if the carrier packed those chocolates in a sturdy box and then shipped them via climate controlled truck, which then broke down so that the chocolate melted, the claim would likely be honored.  In essence the carrier accepted liability for the shipment due to full disclosure of the inherent nature of the product.

Another example: if the very fine mesh you used to support a heavy bead on your collage gives way in shipping — inherent vice. However if the carrier inspected the artwork and was made aware of this issue, you might prevail if it is shown that the carrier could have mitigated the damage by shipping the package flat, improving the packaging, or other available means.

So, for the best possible chance of recovery declare the precise nature of the item to your carrier or fine art shipper and allow them to inspect it fully. Discuss any unstable elements and have them recommend a suitable packing and shipping approach. Inherent vice may still get you, depending upon the situation, but you will have improved the odds of a happy ending for both yourself and your art shipping provider.

Betsy Dorfman

We get inquiries regularly from customers looking to gift their empty crates to us. With the implication that, of course, the crates are valuable and it is really the donor who is making the sacrifice. So the least we can do is pick them up for free, how about Tuesday? In the past, waaay in the past, we said yes. No longer.

Having accepted and stored an inventory of “used crates” some years back, we licked our chops and waited for the perfect fits to show up. The caller who would need a crate of a certain size, one we could pluck right out of our inventory, spruce up a bit and maybe re-fit the foam interior, and essentially sell again. Thus offering the customer a reduced rate and creating a happy transaction all around. Except that, it rarely happened. It so rarely happened, in fact, that we ceased for the most part storing empty crates.

Why? Well, first, it just wasn’t economical. Crates are built to house a particular artwork or set of artworks. To fit a smaller work into an existing crate, the interior has to be re-done, old materials stripped away, new foam added etc.– this is both labor intensive and involves the cost of new materials. Even removing old labeling and covering outdated stenciling takes considerable time. Often the “feet” of the crate were loose and had to be replaced, or other wood elements in the crate required reinforcement. In addition, the customer has to pay higher shipping rates for a larger crate, so that has to be considered in the trade off re pricing. Customers do not like to see wasted space within crates — and it is very clear to professionals when crates have been padded to excess.

The bottom line turned out to be that the expense in time and materials to refit an existing crate was substantial, and often building a new one was a better deal for the customer, especially when shipping costs were factored in. And on our side, the costs to pickup, handle, store, inventory and inspect crates to find possible matches was not worth the meagre return.

For many sculptures, installation pieces and other dimensional artworks, a retrofit crate was out of the question. With such artworks the interior of the crate is actually the expensive part, as custom supports have to be designed, fabricated, and secured in the crate to hold all elements of the work in place. To start with an existing crate would be a complication to be overcome, not a short cut.

Finally there can be quality issues with a used crate, particularly one that has been stored for a long time or that has been subject to repeated shipping adventures. Screws can work loose, wood dry out, glued elements come unglued, and the stresses of shipping can work loose formerly tight joints, gaskets, and seams.  Some of the crates donated to us way back when were, upon inspection, trash. Some looked new, but upon handling proved rickety and unlikely to survive further freight journeys without substantial refurbishing. Some had spiders and worse, having been stored out of doors — not recommended.

So our rule has become: empty crates? Thanks but, no thanks. There are exceptions to every rule, and here and there we are able to re-use a recently arrived crate if the stars are in proper alignment. If a really amazing crate comes our way we might keep and admire it for awhile, and have our craters learn from it’s design, but sooner or later out it goes. The only empty crates we store now are those held in storage accounts for our customers. These are typically high end crates built for specific artworks that clients have in their collections, or crates being held for artworks temporarily in town on exhibition. Normally only the most expensive museum quality crates and cases are stored long term; it makes economic sense to store these rather than build new ones. In that case, crates are carefully inspected prior to re-use, and any elements that have degraded are replaced, so they are in “as new” condition when released into the arms of the shipping gods.

 Betsy Dorfman

You may have seen recent news coverage of yacht owners abandoning their boats in these recessionary times, causing a mess for marinas and law enforcement officers who have to deal with the cost to dispose of these in an environmentally friendly way.

Well, less heralded, it’s happening to us here in our fine art storage facility. Owners of high end paintings and sculptures are abandoning these possessions in droves, rather than continue to pay storage fees.

As one collector put it in a recent phone call:

“To continue to pay $125 a month when the artwork is only worth $50,000 – well, you do the math, it just isn’t a good investment anymore. Do whatever you want with the thing, to me at this point it’s just a heartbreak on canvas. And don’t call me anymore!”

Reached for comment, marina owner Fred “Tug” Cruiser, was sympathetic:

“I hear you, believe me. At least yours don’t leak oil. Oh, they do? Never thought of that. Here we have the owners, some of them, deliberately scuttling the boats themselves. Insurance company raises them up to find neat holes drilled in the side etcetera. My advice,  if you’re going to scuttle one of those pictures or statues, first, don’t do it in my marina and, second, don’t make nice little round holes! Get your dog to chew it or something. Have a little imagination for Christ’s sake. Geez, there goes a guy with a drill, sorry, gotta go.”

As you can imagine, there are laws on the books governing the proper disposal of artworks. You can’t just toss them in the dumpster or leave them on the shoulder of the 405 freeway on a dark night, however tempting. And you can’t sell them because, as with yachts, the market is already glutted with people trying to sell better paintings for pennies on the palette and anyway, as a storage facility, you don’t have access to the provenance. Without the provenance, even preschools won’t take them for the nap room. We tried.

As it is today, we can barely get in the front door due to a pile up of Picassos and Pollocks. In the back,  orphaned Boteros have staged a rebellion, shed their crates, and are dancing naked in the aisles. It isn’t pretty.

That’s the situation here on April 1^st, hoping for better days ahead.

Betsy Dorfman